Maundy Thursday sermon

Maundy Thursday 

March 29, 2018

St. Joseph’s Episcopal Church

The Rev. Valerie Ann Hart

Do any of you remember the last conversation that you had with someone before they died? Do you remember where you were, what you did, what that person said? Thirty-five years later I still remember my father’s last words to me. It doesn’t matter whether at the time we know the person is going to die, we still remember the interaction. And if the person knows that they are about to die it gives even more power to those last words. A dying parent will want to share some last bits of guidance for the children, spouses share a last loving good-bye and a teacher longs to impart one more bit of knowledge.

All four Gospels contain a description of the meal Jesus had with his disciples before his death. There are differences between the Gospels, but they all make it clear that it was an extremely important event. Jesus knew that it was going to be his last time to eat with his disciples. As a teacher, he also realized that this was going to be his last opportunity to teach. The last class. The last chance to get through the thick skulls of those disciples exactly what it was he had been trying to teach them

At this last meal he could have talked intellectually. He could have sat with his disciples and said, “Okay, I want you to get the theology right. Here is the exact nature of God, and my relationship with God, and it is important that you believe this correctly.” But he didn’t do that. 

And he could have talked about spiritual things. He could have talked about the things that are kind of hard to understand, like heaven and eternity. But he didn’t. 

Instead that last supper was very incarnational. It was about action. It was about the world, being here, being now. It was about bread and wine and water and a basin and a towel. Concrete things. Simple things. Nothing expensive. Nothing fancy. Things that were in every Jewish household. Bread and wine, water, a basin and a towel. 

Jesus came from the prophetic tradition. If you read the prophets in the Old Testament, you’ll find they often illustrated their teachings by doing outrageous things. Jeremiah at one point took a brand new pair of pants, wore them once and them folded them up and stuck them in a crevice in a rock. Six months later he took them out and they are full of holes. Then he explained that God said this is the Judean people, full of holes in their relationship with God. Another prophet had the king fire an arrow through a window and then said this is how you are going to conquer Syria. Another one went up to the future king and took his cloak and ripped it into twelve pieces and threw the pieces in all different directions to show that the tribes of Abraham were going to be scattered. The prophets did this because they knew that people remembered those kind of dramatic actions. Jesus wanted people to remember his last meal and what he was teaching. So he took some dramatic action.

First he took the bread. Now the bread that he picked up had great meaning, if it was indeed a Passover feast. The unleavened bread represented the flight from Egypt, the hurry to get out of slavery into freedom. The bread represented that freedom. It also represented the manna that God gave people when they were in the wilderness. Bread represents survival, sustenance, the basic foundation of living. It nurtures and feeds. It has a very rich meaning. 

Jesus picked up the bread, and he blessed it. Then he broke it and said, “This is my body, broken for you.” He gave bread a whole new meaning. 

Then he picked up the chalice of wine. The one cup that would be passed around and they all would drink from. The disciples were used to blessing the Passover cup. 

Now wine also is rich in meaning. We call alcohol spirits for a reason. Wine was considered to have spirit in it. And at the time of Jesus there were worshipers of the God Dionysus or as the romans called him Bacchus - the God of wine. Wine was one of the things that was offered at the temple in Jerusalem and poured onto the altar. Wine was rich in significance and meaning. 

Jesus picked up the wine and he blessed it. Then he said, “This is my blood which is shed for you.” This is my blood? This is my blood! Imagine, imagine the reactions of the disciples who were all good Jews. Jews never, ever, ever drink blood. When an animal is killed for Kosher food all the blood is drained out of it. Blood was considered to carry the life force of the animal. That blood, that life force, was only to be offered to God. The idea that the disciples would drink blood? That got their attention! 

Then he said “Do this to remember me.” Well you can be pretty sure that the disciples weren’t going to forget that. 

And if that wasn’t enough, the next thing he did was he took off his outer cloak and got down to his basic underwear, a simple garment much like the albs the clergy and acolytes wear. He was now dressed like a servant might be dressed. Then he took a towel and a basin and a pitcher of water and he began to wash the disciples’ feet. 

It was not like today. How many of you took a shower before coming to the service tonight? We don’t want our feet to be dirty when we come up to have our feet washed. Back then they were wearing sandals, and they were walking on the dirt streets that the chariots and donkeys and camels all walked down. There was the mud, and grim and all the stuff that you would not want to have between your toes. That’s what they were walking through on the way to dinner. So, when you came to a person’s house, if you had been traveling, to have your feet cleaned was a great gift. But it was never done by the host. If the host was rich, one of the slaves would do it, but it had to be one of the slaves that wasn’t Jewish because according to the Torah, you couldn’t make a Jewish slave wash someone’s feet. It was beneath them. So it would have to be a non-Jewish slave that would wash your feet. The bottom of the bottom. If you didn’t have slaves, then if you were a good host you provided a pitcher of water and a nice clean towel and a basin where a person could wash their own feet. But never, ever would the host wash someone’s feet. 

Yet here was Jesus, their Lord and their teacher, down on his knees washing their feet. No wonder Peter said, “don’t do this.” 

After Jesus was finished and had done all these dramatic actions, much like in the prophetic tradition, he began to teach. Now came the teaching that all of those actions were leading up to. 

He said, “Love one another as I have loved you.” Love one another as I have loved you.  

How did Jesus love them? Jesus loved them? Incarnationally, in the material world. Jesus fed them. He offered his body and his blood for them. Jesus got down on his knees and washed their feet - like a servant. That is how Jesus’ followers are to love one another. 

When Jesus said, “Love one another as I have loved you,” he was not saying have a nice warm feeling about everybody, because that is not how Jesus loved people. And he wasn’t saying love in a sort of abstract sense of “well I love everybody in the world”, because that was not the way Jesus loved. The way Jesus loved was material, and real, and right here and in depth. It involved bread and wine, water, a basin and a towel. It meant being the servant. It meant touching with love. It meant offering his life. It meant dying for them.

That was his final teaching. That is what he wanted the disciples to remember. That was the summation of all his teaching and all his ministry. ‘Love one another as I have loved you.’

Now we will participate in the ceremony of the foot washing where we have an opportunity to wash one another’s feet, where we have a chance to physically represent Jesus’ command to love one another. There are two parts here, two opportunities to practice love. 

The first is the humble act of washing another’s feet. To be the care giver. To serve.

The second, and for some, more difficult opportunity, is to let someone else wash your feet. We, like Peter, are confronted with the question of whether we can be humble enough to let someone care for us in such an intimate way? Can we permit ourselves to be vulnerable to this loving action of another?

To love one another means to both lovingly give and lovingly receive. To love is to be willing to be vulnerable.

To love is to live in the knowledge that each and every person here tonight is a beloved child of God in need of comfort and in need of the opportunity to offer comfort.